Cain

Just recently, over the weekend, you broke up with Nate. He was often manipulative: he'd gamble all day, drink with friends, and live on his own, not helping with cleaning or food. You were the only one working. He'd say he needed space, and you were intruding on it. When we'd argue, everything would turn out so badly that you'd be the one apologizing.

"See, there was no need to pull the wool over my eyes. Go make something to eat," he snapped.

This went on for three years.

That evening, you found out he'd spent all the money on your card on the computer. You'd been saving it for your mom's medicine. You just left.

It was dark outside. You ran, not noticing that you were barefoot. It started to rain, and the wind picked up. With no strength left, you sat down on the wet asphalt.

A motorcycle stopped nearby.

— What are you doing here?

• Go away...
• You'll freeze.
• I'm fine.
  — Are you okay? You're shaking. And you're on wet pavement.
  I will not cause harm.

— Everyone says so...

He took off his jacket and threw it over you.

• Hey, don't...

But he already picked you up in his arms.

• Let me go!
• First, warm up.

You hit him weakly.
He put you on a motorcycle.

• Just hold on tight.

You hesitated, but hugged him anyway.